The Matthews Murder Ballad
by TearsLost
Summary: When Cory finds a body buried in Mister Feeny's garden, the police arrest him and charge him with murder. One-shot. Cory Matthews, George Feeny, Shawn Hunter, Eric Matthews, Amy, Alan. Rape/suicide/murder


"Do the police know who the kid was yet?"

"Not yet, they wanted Cory to see if he could identify him as anyone from John Adam's high, but he was too shaken, he wouldn't come out of his room." Amy sighed, sitting down at the table.

Alan ran a hand fretfully through his hair.

Cory had been planting a rose bush for Feeny when his shovel had hit something that was too solid to be dirt, but too yielding to be roots or concrete. When he had pulled his shovel back out, he was horrified to find it covered in blood. Concerned he'd struck a rabbit in it's hole, he had dug deeper, only to find a human boy with a gaping wound in his stomach from the shovel. Feeny had been inside when he'd made the gruesome discovery, giving the terrified teen time to run for safety and call the police.

As it turned out, the body, a boy in his teens, had been buried alive. It was more than likely that the shovel Cory had accidentally stabbed him with was the cause of death. From what the police could tell, the boy hadn't been buried for more than a few minutes, and the only thing keeping him from digging himself out was the ropes that were bound tightly around his hands and feet, the only thing keeping him from crying out for help was the rag shoved cruelly into his mouth. This was something Cory didn't need to know. He shouldn't have to feel guilty about accidentally killing the poor boy.

But it wasn't Cory's fault. Feeny, that horrid man, had buried that poor boy alive, promptly after raping him and beating him brutally. So far it was unknown why he had tried to kill the boy, but the police were interrogating him. So far he had yet to admit to the crime, and instead, desperately denied having committed it.

"I just can't believe George killed that kid." Alan sighed, sitting down next to his wife.

"I wonder who he was." Amy murmured distantly, clutching a cold cup of coffee that she had poured hours ago and had yet to finish.

"Its so awakening to think… it could have just as easily been Cory, or Eric or Morgan, I mean we live right next door to the man, I just…" Alan shook his head, swallowing the lump in his throat that told him he could have just as easily lost one of his children.

"After all these years, when you think you know someone and you suddenly realize you have no idea who they are." Amy agreed quietly.

Alan nodded somberly, then jumped when the phone rang.

"I got it!" Amy cried, grabbing the receiver with shaky hands. "Hello? Yes, yes this is Amy Matthews. Who? What? No… oh no…" Amy let out a cry of shock, dropping the phone.

"What, Amy, what is it?" Alan grabbed the phone. "Hello?"

"Hello, Alan Matthews?"

"Yes?"

"We discovered the identity of the boy that was murdered."

"Yes? Who- who was it?" Alan feared the worst.

"His name was Shawn Hunter."

**… previously …**

"Hey Eric, where's Cory?" Shawn greeted, entering the kitchen.

"Oh, hey. He's upstairs getting ready to help Feeny with his garden." Eric replied, going back to reading his magazine.

Shawn turned, ready to go up the stairs to find his friend when he felt a hand come down on his shoulder. Confused, he turned to see Eric had stood and was staring at him strangely.

"What's wrong?" He asked, smiling uncertainly at his best friend's brother. He and Eric really didn't interact much, so Eric's behavior was more than a little odd.

"Nothing's wrong." Eric replied, physically turning Shawn to face him, both hands on his shoulders.

"Then, what are you doing?" Shawn laughed nervously, trying to shake Eric off.

Eric smiled down at the younger boy, a full head taller than him. "I want to show you something." Eric replied, moving his face uncomfortably close to Shawn's.

"What…" Shawn gave him the strangest look, leaning away.

Eric smiled in a peculiar way and started pushing Shawn towards the living room.

"Eric- Eric I really need to talk to Cory-" Shawn tried to no avail.

"And I really need to talk to you." Eric countered, pushing Shawn down on the couch.

It was then when Shawn really started fighting back, fear and confusion pulsing through him as Eric crawled on top of him, pinning him down with his body. By now he would have been making a fuss, crying out in alarm had Eric not attacked his mouth in a hungry kiss. Wild alarm shot through Shawn as the kiss continued, stronger and more aggressive. After an entire minute, Eric moved away and shoved a pillow in Shawn's face, making breathing difficult. Eric then skillfully tied Shawn's hands and feet, making it impossible for the struggling teen to move.

Shawn, now seeing stars from lack of oxygen, felt a strange sense of familiarity as his pants were ripped down and pain shot up his ass. He was being raped. Again. It had been Eric… he knew now who had raped him three years ago. They had come in the night, bound and gagged him, and he'd lived with not knowing who it had been. He had been finally ready to tell Cory about it, which was, actually what he had wanted to speak to him about. Now he knew, and there was nothing he could do about it.

But… why did Eric let him know this time who his assailant was? How did he plan to keep Shawn from telling people what kind of a person Eric was? There was only one way Shawn Hunter would ever be kept quiet… and knowing this made fear and panic engulf him.

Certainly Eric wouldn't kill him? But on the same token, certainly Eric wouldn't rape him, either. This wasn't the Eric Matthews Shawn knew. Eric Matthews was the sweetest young man anyone would ever want to know. He was stupid, and gullible, and could be taken advantage of. Perhaps all that was just what he wanted you to see. Maybe that was the illusion he played for you. And maybe Shawn had fallen right into his trap.

Whimpering in pain, Shawn felt his pants roughly pulled back up, and the pillow was removed, allowing him to gasp in desperately. Before he could scream for help, Eric stuffed a wad of cloth – probably a kitchen towel – into Shawn's mouth. Gagging, Shawn resisted the urge to try and breathe through his mouth, and instead concentrated on breathing through his nose.

Shawn stared at Eric with wide, fear-filled eyes, sweat and tears trickling down his face. Eric stared back at him with a sinister look that Shawn had never seen before. It was disturbing the way he looked at Shawn. The boy flinched when Eric's hand came down over his head, leaving a sore bruise. He was hit again, and again.

Dazed, Shawn hardly noticed as Eric effortlessly lifted him over his shoulder, carrying him back through the kitchen, allowing his head to hit against the doorframe as he quickly went into the backyard. Shawn grunted in pain when Eric threw him down carelessly into Feeny's empty flower bed. With only a few shovel strokes, Eric shoved Shawn down into the hole and carelessly threw dirt back on top of him, his face obstructed from view by a large bush that already presided in the flower bed.

Shawn lay there for a while, head spinning, dirt falling into his face and eyes. He struggled to breath with all the weight piled on top of his chest. Grateful his head wasn't buried as deeply as his body, Shawn tried to squirm his way out of his grave, but only managed to sink deeper.

He stopped, hearing voices in Feeny's back yard. It was… Feeny, and Cory! Cory, oh Cory…

"Just get started planting those mister Matthews, I'll be right back, I left my gloves somewhere inside." Feeny was saying, his voice incredibly muffled.

"Sure thing, mister Feeny." Cory sighed.

Shawn heard a shovel scrape against the ground, then felt the dirt move over top of him. All Cory had to do was dig a little and he'd find Shawn. Just a little more, oh how Shawn hoped Cory didn't do the thing where he plow drove the shovel into the ground … BAM! Too late.

Shawn's senses went numb. Cory's terrified squeal could be heard. Shawn felt his blood drip and ooze, mixing with the dirt. He tried to gasp in, but the rag was blocking the air, he was too dazed to try and breathe through his nose. Gargling in pain, he spent his last few seconds of life wondering why him. Why him… why… sirens. Sirens could be heard… Feeny… loud… noise… silence.

**…aftermath…**

"Still pleading innocent, George Feeny, principal at John Adams high was convicted of raping and murdering one of his students yesterday afternoon. Police say that the boy, fourteen year old Shawn Hunter, was brutally raped and beaten, but was buried alive in Feeny's back yard, later found by the teacher's next-door neighbor. More on that later."

Eric Matthews sat, staring at the TV screen. His smile was concealed by his tears, and his laughter was covered by his sobs. He had gotten away with it. He was home free. His next victim… he wasn't sure. But he was free to take as long as he needed to pick one. Feeny had taken the fall for his crime, and he didn't have a worry in the world.

Cory Matthews sat, also staring at the TV screen. His mind was numb. His best friend was gone. He had stabbed his body. He could still see the blood. Still see Shawn's favorite t-shirt ripped, blood-stained and covered in dirt. What was there to do other than weep? What was there to do other than mourn? But there was a way out. He felt himself move to the window, felt himself lean, ready to go headfirst, waiting to feel his brother try and stop him. Instead, he felt a push.


End file.
